The Doppelganger
by Acute-angle-101
Summary: On average, there are seven people in the world that look alike. Sam and Dean find one of those people, one that looks exactly like Dean. But before they can find out if he is supernatural or not, Deans Doppelganger is taken. Is it a trap or was the look-a-like taken thinking he was the real Winchester? Someone is in the middle of it all. Set in season 7 w/o leviathan.
1. Chapter 1

Please leave a review to tell me what you think! I hope you enjoy!

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*BANG*

Her whole body jerked awake and her eyes flew open.

Head pounding, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heartbeat. Laying on her stomach, in on a soft mattress, the only thing in her line of vision was the edge of her bed and a beige wall filled with picture frames.

She let out the air in her lungs and reminded herself to breathe. Closing her eyes, she listened for the sound that woke her up. Nothing. Everything was completely silent except for the rotation of the fan above her.

She raised her head and squinted at her alarm clock. 7:14.

'Ugh.' She thought. 'It is way too early for this.'

Crawling out of bed she looked around. Nothing. Her bedroom looked exactly the same as it did when she went to sleep. Everything was standing up straight, beige walls, white dressers, and white curtains over the window, all untouched. She walked to her bedroom door, and lightly stepped over a guitar she hadn't learned how to play yet, along the way. She opened her door and peered out. Nothing.

'Huh.'

She walked down the hallway, the walls littered with more photos, until she got to the kitchen. Nothing. Everything was shiny and white, untouched. She headed to the living room. Again, Nothing. Her camera sitting innocently on the coffee table. She blew out a puff of air.

'I give up. I'm going back to bed.'

Running a hand through her long brown hair, she headed back the way she came. After closing her bedroom door she flopped on the bed and laid down. Nuzzling her face into her pillow and pulling the white fluffy blanket over her head, she fell back asleep. Sunlight was barely coming in through the window and the sound of birds were outside. Everything was perfectly normal.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean yelled.

Sam was tired. They had been on this hunt for a good three weeks. He didn't understand how a Siren could be so hard to find. They were in the middle of the floor of a dance club, music blaring and strobe lights flashing every which way. Sweaty bodies pressed together everywhere. He was getting a headache and could feel blood pounding in his ears. He was pulling Dean away from some girl who had started grinding on him.

"Jeez, Sam." Dean said loudly over the music, and pulled his arm out of Sam's grip. "I was just trying to have some fun!"

"We aren't here to have fun!" Sam stopped and turned back to his brother. The end of the dance floor was still about ten feet away. "Or have you forgotten that there is a Siren running around here?"

"Of course not. But we've been coming here every night for a week and nothing has turned up. I doubt tonight will be any different. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the mini skirt back there." Dean turned, about to walk away, when Sam stopped him.

"Why?" Sam asked getting excited. "Do you think she is your dream girl? Do you think that could be the Siren?" He quickly looked the way they had co me from, searching for the girl that might be the end of this horrible hunt.

"What?! No." Dean exclaimed. "Dude, calm down. I know you want to get out of here so just go. We can meet up later."

"I'm not leaving you here alone, especially if that girl is who we are looking for." Sam said. 'Please let that be her' he thought.

"Did you see her?" Dean tilted his head. "If she had legs that went on forever and jugs the size of watermelons, then I would be worried. As it stands, the small redhead isn't a threat."

Sam sighed. He was tired.

"Just go back to the motel man." Dean winked. "I'll be fine. Swear!"

Sam agreed and after making plans for later, headed toward the door to leave the crowded building. After stepping outside onto the sidewalk he took a deep breath of fresh air. It was dark and the street was empty except for a couple of working girls on a corner and the bouncer for the club standing outside the door. A dingy street light was flickering above him. It was surprisingly quiet, considering how loud the building was, he could only hear the thud of the bass music through the doors. He checked the time on his watch, 1:14.

Sam rolled his shoulders and started walking down the street. He would have to take a cab back to their motel, since Dean would be needing the impala for the different forms of exercise he was going to perform. One dingy streetlight was replaced with another.

He passed an alley and the hookers from across the street were waving at him.

*BANG*

He jumped and his head flew in the direction of the noise, hand moved to the gun he held in the back of his jeans.

Sitting in the alley was a homeless man who had knocked over a trashcan.

Sam let out a breath. Then sucked one in, reminded himself to breathe. His hand moved away from the gun. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he started walking again. Faster this time. He wanted to get back to the motel and just go to sleep. The empty street he was on intersected with a busy one up ahead. He could see cars passing and open bars that were less secluded than the one behind him. When he was about two blocks away he could see the distinguishing features of bright yellow taxi cabs waiting in front of bars to pick up drunk patrons. With his destination in sight, he started jogging. He stopped at the edge of the street and looked before crossing. Just as he reached one of the taxis, a drunk man reached for the door handle and pushed Sam out of the way.

"Sorry man, I was here first." Sam said. Opening the back door and turning toward the gentleman who had pushed him. He was wearing a suit and was almost a foot shorter than Sam.

"Soo? I needs it more." The man slurred.

"There's another cab right there." Sam pointed. "Hurry before that chick gets it."

"Where?" The man turned his head so fast he lost his balance and fell into Sam, who had to hold him up until he could stand again. He mumbled something that sounded like 'sorry' before turning back to look at Sam. He then promptly bent over and proceeded to throw up all over Sam's shoes.

"What the hell!?" The taxi man shouted from his seat in front. He got out and started yelling about how there was now puke on his car.

Sam sighed. He was tired.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dean unlocked the door to Sammy's and his motel room as quietly as he could. He knew the kid would have gone straight to bed as soon as he got back. He had actually left the club not long after Sammy, 45 minutes at the most. Contrary to what his little brother thought, he didn't have to have sex all the time. Don't get him wrong, he probably would have, but he got the distinct impression the small redhead he had been dancing with wasn't quite old enough for him.

He set the keys to his baby down on the table by the door. He looked over toward the beds, trying to see through the dark, and was surprised when he couldn't see a lump on one of them.

"Sammy?" He called out.

Nothing.

He closed the door behind him and went over to the light switch, turned it on, he looked around at the empty room. 'Dammit' He thought. 'Where the hell is he?' Sam had more than enough time to get back here before him. All their clothes and bags were where they had left them. Dean pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and started dialing Sam's number. Just as he was about to push call, the door to the motel room opened. Dean turned and watched as Sam walked through. The kid looked exhausted. Sam's nose was scrunched up like he was smelling something bad. He was barefoot and had shoes in his hand that were dripping wet like someone had sprayed them with a hose.

"Dude where have you been?" Dean exclaimed. "I was worried."

"Don't ask." Sam sighed. "I need a shower." He turned toward the bathroom and went to do just that.

"Well, are you okay?" Dean called after him.

"Just peachy." Sam said before he closed the door.

Dean shrugged. He'll ask Sam about it in the morning. He heard the shower start, so he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it in a pile with the rest of his 'dirty, but can still be worn again' clothes. Putting the gun and knife he always carried with him on the table by the bed, he took off his jeans and changed into sweat pants.

Lying in bed, he listened to Sam messing around in the bathroom. He knew Sam was fed up with this hunt. (Mostly because his brother wouldn't shut up about how he was fed up with this hunt.) But he could admit that he was getting tired of it too.

They had come into Chicago because a man had murdered his wife. Nothing supernatural there, but his 'girlfriend' had told him to do it. There were similar cases all over the city and after some research, and Nate Pelet's remorseful reaction after he realized he murdered his wife, they knew what they were dealing with. Of course the fact that Pelet had a high level of oxytocin in his bloodstream helped too. Dean remembered the last time they dealt with a Siren perfectly, and he would be damned if he let that happen again. Especially since Bobby wasn't around to help them this time. But after a week and a half of searching, they still hadn't found the stupid thing.

The bathroom door opened and Sam walked out with a towel around his waist and his dirty clothes in his hands. He dropped the clothes on the ground, grabbed some stuff and walked back to the bathroom, coming back out after a minute in pajama clothes. Dean watched as Sam walked over and fell face first into his own bed, wrapped an arm around his pillow and started snoring after less than a minute. Dean chuckled. He had a feeling they were going to have a late start in the morning.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three more days passed before Sam finally suggested they call it quits.

"No." Dean simply said, while tightly gripping the wheel of the impala until his knuckles were white.

"Come on man." Sam argued. Dean was furious and Sam knew it. But unlike Sam, who was done with the whole thing, Dean was determined to finish this. Any other time, Sam would have agreed with him, but Sam didn't know what else to do. They had talked to all the victims, gone to every place the Siren had been, followed every lead, called every hunter they knew of to find this thing, and all of them were dead ends. The siren was just gone.

"Dean, it's gone. It probably figured out we were here and took off." Sam tried again. "Its 7 states over by now."

Dean slammed his hand against the dashboard. Sam sighed, something he had been doing a lot of lately, and rubbed his forehead.

"God dammit Sammy!" Dean yelled.

"I know man, I know." Sam tried to sooth his brother. "But there is only so much we can do."

After a minute of silence, Sam watched his brother loosen his grip on the wheel and huff out a breath.

"Just call Bobby and tell him to make sure others know there's still a siren out on the loose." Dean grumbled.

"Okay, good. Let's go pack up our stuff and get out of here!" Sam said, a little too excitedly. Dean gave him an irritated look. Sam chuckled, he didn't care as long as they were really leaving this stupid case behind. Dean took the next right to go back to the motel and Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Bobby. The phone started ringing in his hand before he even got to his contacts. He brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hey Bobby, I was just about to call you." He answered. "Listen we can't find the siren and we think it took off. Would you call around and let some other hunters know it's still out there?"

"I'm not your damn secretary, boy." Bobby said through the line. "And we have a bigger problem right now."

"What's going on Bobby?" Sam asked. "Something wrong?" Sam could see Dean looking at him from the corner of his eye with a question on his face.

"I think it's best if I just show you." Bobby sounded perplexed. "How soon can you get here?"

"We're in Chicago, so in about 13 hours, but tell me what the hell's going on. Are you okay?" Sam worried.

"No, no, I'm fine. It's nothing like that. Just hurry, its super weird." Bobby replied.

"Okay we'll be there soon... But Bobby, will you call around about the siren?"

"Ya, ya, I'll take care of it. Ijdit."

Sam chuckled before hanging up. "Looks like we are going to go see Bobby."

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"No idea. All he said was he wanted to show us something weird."

"Huh." Dean pulled into the parking lot of the motel they were staying at and parked the car. Sam climbed out and wondered what Bobby wanted. They would find out soon enough.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

She was in a park. It was a perfect day, sunny with just a bit of chill in the air. Breeze blowing clouds around. Kids playing on swing sets and people walking their dogs. It was fall, and leaves of all colors were falling around the park. It was around 3:30 when everyone was enjoying their afternoon. She took a deep breath and marveled at the fact she could enjoy such a day.

"There you are, love!"

She looked up and smiled as her handsome boyfriend, Deavon, walked toward her. She put her 5£ cup of coffee of the bench next to her so it wouldn't spill, she stood up and hugged him when he got close enough. He was about 6'1' so she had to get on tiptoe.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." He said. "I have something fantastic to show you!"

She smiled, she didn't know how she got so lucky. "I told you I was going for a walk." She giggled. "But what do you have to show me?"

He motioned for her to sit down again and pulled a paper out of his pocket. He sat down next to her and handed it to her.

"What is this?" She asked. She unfolded the paper and starred down at the invitation to an art gallery event. "This is an invitation to Lady Catherine's Gallery ball this weekend! How did you get one?!" Lady Catherine's Gallery was the biggest art dealership in London. The annual ball was super exclusive and by invite only. It is impossible to even get near the place without the right papers.

"Let's say I know someone whose work will be appearing in the show." Deavon smirked. She looked at him speechless. His eyes kept flickering to the paper in her hand, quite obviously trying to make a hint she wasn't following.

"I don't understand. Who do you know?" She looked at the paper again. There was a list of the artists whose work would be displayed during the ball. There, underneath 'Photographs', was her name. "Oh my god."

"I made a few calls and pulled a few strings but I got you in. Lady Catherine said she loved your work." Deavon went on when she didn't say anything else.

"Oh my god." She couldn't believe this. Was this real? She couldn't breathe. One of her pieces was going to be shown in the biggest event of the year? "Oh my god. Oh mygod. Ohmygod. OHMYGOD!" She screamed. She screamed very loudly. Like one of those sorority girls she saw in a movie once, she didn't care. She was jumping around in her seat. "Deav, How is this even possible?!"

"This is me making up for not being here on your birthday when I leave next month." He said, then looked at her apologetically.

"My birthday?" She asked confused, her smile fading. "But my birthday isn't for three more months. You're only going to be gone for six weeks."

"I knew I should have delivered the bad news first." Deavon grimaced. He sighed, "Ok look. I'm going to have to stay longer than I expected. I got the call a couple days ago. Ill be gone until January, I was trying to find a good way to tell you."

Her smile fell completely. January? That's four months away. "But that means you'll miss Thanksgiving, and my birthday, and Christmas, and New Year's." She rambled.

"Well first of all I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, that's just one of your weird American holidays. And second, we can still talk all the time while I'm gone. I don't want to fight about it. I'm really sorry to throw it on you like that, but I just want to enjoy the time we have left before I leave, ok?" He smiled. He put an arm around her and kissed her head above her ear. "We'll go to this gala thing next week and get some new clients for you and be enjoy our time together."

She put on a fake smile. "Yeah, okay." She could do that, right? She would process everything later and just enjoy the time they had right now. "So?" She asked. "What photograph should I put in the exhibit?"

"Well, you get three spots and I showed Lady Catherine your portfolio, she picked one she wanted in the show and you get to pick the other two."

"Which one did she pick?"

"The one you titled 'Windows into the soul.' One of my personal favorites I might add." Deavon chuckled.

"Oh be quiet." She giggled. "That's only because it's a close up of your eyes."

She turned to face him then. So she could look into his eyes... his bright green eyes.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It took them about 14 hours to get to Bobby's house since they got a flat tire along the way. The impala pulled up the drive way and turned off. It was 5:00 in the morning. They were exhausted. Bobby was asleep so the boys figured it wasn't that big of an emergency and they could sleep until he woke up. Sam pulled his bag out of the trunk with Dean and walked into the house, up the stairs, and into their room. Not even bothering to change since they would be up in about three hours anyway, they laid down.

Sam closed his eyes and fell asleep for what felt like 5 minutes before Bobby was knocking on the door.

"Rise and shine, boys! Get your lazy asses up." Bobby yelled from the hall.

Sam groaned. Opening his eyes he saw light streaming through the window. Looking at the clock confirmed his suspicion, it was 8:37. He pulled the pillow over his head.

"Come on, Sammy." Dean grumbled. "Let's go see what the old man wants." Sam could tell Dean was rubbing a hand down his face.

Sam stretched and mentally prepared himself to get up. Pushing the pillow off, he stood up and fixed his clothes. Following his brother out the door and into the hallway, he took a right to go to the bathroom. As soon as Dean saw what he was doing, Dean rushed in front of him and slammed the bathroom door in his brother's face.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Sam yelled.

Sam could hear Dean laughing behind the door. "Sucker!" Came from Dean.

Running his hands through his hair, Sam turned and walked down the hallway. Grumbling the whole way down the stairs about how much of an ass his brother was. He used the downstairs restroom instead. When he came out he heard Bobby messing around in the kitchen. Walking in and sitting down at the table he saw Bobby was making eggs.

"Good morning" Sam mumbled.

"Mornin." Bobby said as he put some eggs and toast on a plate and handed it to Sam.

Bobby always made sure the boys were fed. Food had always been a worry when their dad left them to go on hunts, but not when they stayed with Bobby. Dean walked in and sat next to Sam and Bobby gave him a plate just as quick. They started eating in silence and watched as Bobby cleaned up, apparently already eaten himself.

"So, what's so weird?" Dean asked with a full mouth.

"Be right back. I'll show you." Bobby said and left the room. He came back a moment later with a laptop in his hands. He sat down across from the boys and opened it up, pressing a few buttons before he turned it around. "This is a website for some fancy art museum thing in London." He simply said.

Sam finished the last few bites of food before pushing his plate over and pulling the laptop closer to him. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. "Why are you showing this to us?" He asked.

Dean put his empty plate on top of Sam's and looked closer at the website. "I don't understand, Bobby, it's just a bunch of rich people selling paintings." Dean stated, scrolling down the page.

"That's what I thought before I saw a picture of one of the things they were selling." Bobby said. "I thought you boys would want to see it."

"No offense Bobby, but we aren't the type to buy a 12 million dollar painting of a black line." Dean scoffed.

Sam kept scrolling, it had to be special if Bobby wanted them to see it. Right? He didn't see anything remotely interesting.

"Look here, at the one labeled 'Windows into the soul'." Bobby pointed to the screen.

Dean laughed, "That's very poetic of you Bobby."

"Shut up, boy, and look." Bobby reprimanded. He pointed at the screen again. "It's not the stupid photograph I want you to see. Look at the men that are holding it up in the picture."

Both boys leaned in closer and looked. Under the title 'Windows into the Soul' and a hefty buy price, was a picture someone had taken of the picture. A little redundant if someone asked Sam. But holding up the giant 3ft picture frame were two men. One of whom was staring directly at the camera, and also happened to be the same man sitting next to him at the table.

"What the..?" Sam questioned. He clicked a few buttons and enlarged the photo. There was no doubt about it. "Dude, that's you." He told Dean.

"That's impossible." Dean argued. He pulled the screen closer to himself and looked harder. "It obviously isn't me. I wouldn't be doing something so stupid. Or be in freaking England!"

"So who is it?" Sam asked. "A shape shifter?"

"I have no idea." Bobby replied. "But something fishy is going on. I tried to get some details, but there isn't anything on there about the men holding up the frame."

"How did you even find this Bobby?" Dean questioned.

Bobby coughed, and looked away. "It doesn't really matter" he muttered. "You boys just need to figure out who that is."

"Bobby, no one just randomly finds a picture like this. There is no information connecting it to anything relevant" Sam argued. "How did you find it?"

Bobby coughed again. "I, um... I like to google myself." He muttered.

Both boys just stared at him for a minute.

"What?" Dean asked, before promptly starting to laugh.

Sam smiled, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, shut up! Both of you idjits!" Bobby yelled. "Just look at the artist of the stupid thing."

Sam, still laughing, looked at the website again. Underneath the price, in small text, was 'photographed by: Bobbie Singer.'

"Well this is weird." Sam laughed, "Looks like we are going to the UK. We should call Cas."

Dean immediately stopped laughing. "No." He simply said. He stood up, picked up the plates and took them to the sink.

"Dean, come on. It will be the easiest way to get there and he probably will know what is going on with whoever is in this picture." Sam pleaded.

"I said no, Sam!" Dean said in a raised voice. "We'll figure it out on our own and get there the old fashioned way." He then walked out of the room and Sam heard his feet pound up the stairs.

Sam sighed. He understood why Dean was mad at Cas. After the whole 'calling himself God' thing it is understandable. But after Cas put all the souls back into purgatory Sam expected Dean to try and work it out with Castiel. Cas has tried to do everything he could to make it up to them. The guilt he felt over everything he did was killing him. After Cas put the souls back he almost did die, according to Death, if he had waited any longer he would have been a goner. Death also said it was lucky the Leviathan went back without a fight (whatever they were exactly). After Cas was healed he healed Sam, since he tore down the wall in Sam's mind. It took Cas months to get over the insanity he took into himself. But nothing he did was good enough. Dean wouldn't have anything to do with the guy. Cas was one of Dean's best friends and he broke his trust. Like Sam said, understandable, but annoying. They could really use an Angel on their side right now.

Bobby was staring at him.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Don't give me that, boy" Bobby said. "He's allowed to be mad at Cas."

"I didn't say he wasn't!" Sam argued. "I just think he should have TRIED to talk to Cas about it by now."

"He'll talk to him when he is good and ready. Don't force him into anything." Bobby warned.

"Yeah, yeah." Sam sighed. "So, you like to google yourself huh?" Sam started laughing again.

"Shut up you idjit!" Bobby yelled. "I found the stupid shifter, didn't I?"

"Ok Bobby, calm down. You did well." Sam said. "Looks like I have to buy some plane tickets now."

Sam pulled the laptop over and started looking for the cheapest tickets he could find.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	3. Chapter 3

Please leave a review! I am really excited about this story and can't wait to see what you guys have to say about it!

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"Singer!"

She was reading the back of a book in book store. One of her favorite places to be, it made her feel calm and collected. The smell of old books was almost a perfume scent for her.

"Singer!"

She liked to think of herself almost like Hermione from Harry Potter in that sense. She quietly wondered if she smelled love potion if it would smell like old books and vanilla... probably. She was a nerd like that.

"Singer!?"

What was she doing? She put the book she was looking at down and went to search for the Harry Potter series. There was no harm in reading the whole thing again, right?

Someone grabbed her from behind. She screamed and immediately grabbed the hand that was holding onto her shoulder, twisted it, and turned around to punch whoever it was in the face.

"HEY, Whoa! Calm down, it's just me!" A large man said.

"Oh my gosh!" She gasped. "Larry, I'm so sorry." She immediately let go of the hand she had in a death grip.

Larry was Deavon's best friend and ex-roommate. She had known him for almost as long as she knew Deavon. Okay... just as long, since she met them both on the same night. Almost two years now, at a bar, the night she had arrived in England.

"Hey, it's okay. Take it easy tiger." Larry said as he rubbed his hand. Followed by him waving at people and motioning that everything was okay to those who had looked over when she screamed.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm perfectly fine. You couldn't hurt me if you tried." Larry laughed.

She smiled. Larry always was trying to be the toughest guy out there. He would always act like nothing ever got to him.

"Why didn't you answer me?" Larry asked. "I called your name like three times!"

"No you didn't." She immediately replied. She had great attention to detail.

"Yes I did, I called out 'Singer' really loud. People were looking at me funny." He laughed.

"Oh right, sorry. I guess I was just out of it, reading and stuff." She smiled. "So what's going on?"

Larry got the biggest grin on his face.

"Oh gosh! I just wanted to say congratulations!" He said enthusiastically.

"Oh thank you, I am really excited about it. It's the first time I've ever been acknowledged like this! It's a big honor." She smiled.

"Well obviously it's you're first time, it would be awkward if you had done it before. I helped pick it out you know? You can thank me anytime!" He flirtatiously said. All swagger and cockiness.

"You helped pick it out? Deavon said Lady Catherine picked it out? Well, thank you anyway." She said.

"Of course I helped! I am the best man after all." He replied. "Wait... Who's Lady Catherine? What are you talking about?"

"She's the owner of the art gallery my photos are going to be displayed in." She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you getting engaged! I helped pick out the ring!" He grinned.

She felt like she was just slapped in the face.

She stared at him.

He stared back.

They stood like that for almost a minute.

His smile fell as he realized his mistake.

"Oh." He said, like he had been deflated. "That's right, congratulations... on your photography."

She let in a huge gulp of air, pushed past him, and ran out of the store.

"IM SORRY!" Larry yelled after her.

She ran. She ran all the way home. Ran across streets and almost got run over. Ran through a playground and got yelled at by parents. Ran behind an alley way since it was a shortcut. By the time she got home she probably looked like a mess, hair blown every which way, sweaty and out of breath. She didn't care. She ran up the stairs of her apartment building and burst through the door.

"Deavon!" She called.

"Back here!" He answered.

She threw her coat and purse on the couch and ran to the bedroom.

He wasn't there.

"Deavon?!" She yelled again.

"I'm here." He answered again. Walking out of the closet. "How was the bookstore?"

He looked up and saw the mess she was in.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He asked worriedly.

She just stared at him. Breathing heavily from her run.

He walked up to her and grabbed her face. She looked into his green eyes. His beautiful green eyes and lightly freckled nose.

"What's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

His phone rang inside his pocket. Leaving one hand on the side of her face, he pulled out his phone and answered it without breaking eye contact with her.

"Yes?" He answered gruffly.

Being this close to him she could hear the voice of the other end of the phone.

"Dude I am so sorry! I saw her at the bookstore and I thought you already did it." She could hear Larry talking.

She licked her lips.

Understanding registered on his face. He closed his eyes and let out a breath. Larry was still apologizing on the phone and he hung up and threw the phone on the bed.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. They stayed there, just looking into each other's eyes.

"Come with me." He said in a low voice. He grabbed her hand and walked back to the closet and picked up a small box from behind his ties. He put it in his pocket and walked out again, he pulled her with him. He headed out of the room and down the hallway to the living room.

And he just kept on going. He walked out the front door and down the stairs, out the buildings doors and down the street. He pulled her along behind him the whole time.

She did not say a word. All she could do was grip his hand and walk with him. Her mind could not process anything. 'Was this really happening?' She thought.

They walked three blocks before they slowed down. He stopped at her favorite café. They went inside and went up to the counter. The lady behind the counter looked up and her eye widened.

"Oh, you're early! You're orders not ready yet Mr. Willard." She apologized.

Deavon just shook his head and pointed to the vanilla cheesecake behind the glass counter and held up two fingers.

"Oh, ok." The lady said. She put two pieces in a box and put that box in a bag. He paid, grabbed the bag, and walked them both out. Never let go of her hand, never said a word.

They walked five more blocks. Turned right and walked two more. They came up onto Paddy's Pub. The bar she met Deavon and Larry at. He walked in the front door, the place was empty... it was 4 in the afternoon after all.

He walked behind the bar, slipped the straps of the bag around his wrist, and grabbed a bottle of champagne with his now free hand. A bartender came out from around a corner and saw them. It was Scotty, a friend of theirs. He looked confused.

"I thought you weren't going to be here until tonight, Deav?" Scotty asked. "There's still a couple things..."

His eyes focused on her then and he shut his mouth, not knowing if he should continue or not.

Deavon just shook his head again. He pulled her along and they moved past Scotty into the back. They went up two levels of stairs and came out onto the roof.

She looked around and caught her breath.

They had been up here multiple times over the last two years. They were friends with the owners and all the bartenders. The roof was always a mess. Right now it was gorgeous.

She could see that lights had been hung up all over the railings and all the clutter had been cleared. There was a table with two chairs and a tablecloth folded up on one of them. They had a beautiful view of London's skyline.

Deavon pulled her to the middle of the roof right next to the table and deposited the food and champagne.

Finally he turned to look at her again.

In a very low and gravelly voice, speaking for the first time since the bedroom, he said "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

She took a deep breath and realized she had not been breathing. She looked down at their hands still clasped together and around at the roof that must have taken forever to clean up.

"It's perfect." She whispered.

"I had plans to bring you here tonight. Dinner, lights, music, the whole thing." He said as if she hadn't talked.

She could see it too, what it would have looked like. Night time, soft twinkling lights, a romantic dinner, music surrounding them, and the city sky line as the perfect background. On top of the bar were they had met. Perfect.

He motioned for her to sit in the chair without the tablecloth. She did. He pulled out the cheesecake and opened it, along with the little plastic forks it came with. He pulled the foil off the top of the champagne and popped the cork, it made a loud noise and spilled a little down the side of the bottle. He immediately took a huge drink from it before handing it to her. She followed suit and filled her mouth with the sweet nectar. She repeated it twice more before she sat it down on the table.

Deavon looked at her and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?" He asked.

"There's no music." She stated.

"I have a great voice." He simply said.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm improvising here, work with me." He groaned.

She smiled and took his hand. He pulled her up and into his arms. He started swaying and turning in circles. He hummed a slow tune she couldn't place and she placed her head on his shoulder. He hugged her tight.

"I'm sorry this isn't working out as planned." He said, interrupting his own humming. "I'm sorry Larry is such a dumbass."

She laughed and looked up at him.

"This is perfect." She whispered again.

He grabbed her face and kissed her then. Slow and passionate. She could feel all his love and consideration flow into the kiss. He tried to pour his feelings into the simple action.

"I'm not good with words, love. You know that." He said, as he pulled away. "But I am going to try my best, ok?" He pulled her back over to the seat he just took her from and sat her down. He knelt down in front of her, both knees on the wooden rooftop.

"You are, without a doubt, the only women I have ever truly loved." He started.

"Wait!" She stopped him. She grabbed the bottle off the table and gulped down some more champagne before putting it back. "Okay, continue."

"You have changed my life." He went on, smiling at the interruption. "For the better!" He added quickly. "I know that's cheesy and what everyone says but it is true. I want a quiet life with kids and a dog and you to be the person I come home to everyday. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, until we are old and grey. I love you, darling."

He pulled out the little box from his pocket and opened it to reveal the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. He took a deep breath and said,

"Joanna, Will you marry me?"

She was breathless. She never expected anything like this to ever happen to her. She was smiling so hard her face felt like it was going to split in half. How did she end up with this beautiful man asking to marry her? Coming to London was the best decision she ever made! Of course she wanted to marry him! Of course she... wait, what?

"What?" She pulled away from him. "Who is Joanna?"

"Um... how should I know?" He asked confused. "Babe, you're kinda leaving me hanging here. I just asked you to marry me."

"You JUST called me Joanna! Who is Joanna?"

"What are you talking about?"

Was she losing her mind? He just said Joanna... Right? She sat there staring at him. He had a confused look on his face and a ring in his hand.

"Baby?" He strangled. "I'm right on the line here."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear it. What was happening? She felt hands on her face and opened her eyes. He was holding her cheeks and looked extremely worried.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed this on you when I know how you feel about weddings. We can talk about it later, pretend that I never brought you up here." His hands tightened on her face a little and he licked his lips. "Please, I can't lose you. I am so sorry."

When she didn't say anything his hands slowly slid from her face.

"Yes."

He looked up. "What?"

"Yes, I'll marry you." She said and smiled. "I will marry you Deavon Willard!"

"Oh Thank God!" He picked her up and swung her around before kissing her. He picked up the box that had fallen on the ground and bent on one knee to put the ring on her finger. "You had me worried there for a minute."

"I love you, too." She simply said.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam wanted to laugh. They were in a terminal in the Chicago International Airport and Dean was already freaking out. By the time they were actually sitting down in their seats on the plane Dean was almost hyperventilating.

"You know we could have just called Cas and had him..." Sam started to say.

"Sam, I swear to God I will punch you in the face right now." Dean interrupted between gritted teeth.

Sam laughed. He felt a bit bad about it though. His brother really was terrified of planes, but until he started talking to Cas again or overcame his fear, Dean had to deal with it.

The trip was rather short, only 8 hours, but by the time they landed Dean said it felt like it had been days.

"Being up that high is not natural." He went on.

Sam ignored him. He looked around the London airport as they made their way to the front gate. He had never been to London before, he had never been out of the country before.

He was really excited to be here, even if it was for a job. Who didn't want to visit London?

Dean said something about taking a boat back to the states when they were done here and Sam laughed.

"Dude, it would take almost 9 days to get back by boat." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"So?" Dean argued. "It's better than flying!"

"It's not happening."

Dean was grumbling again as they made their way through the sliding doors that led outside. Sam just smiled. He wondered if they would have time to go look at some land marks between looking for the shifter. They motioned for a taxi and asked to go to a small inn they had looked up beforehand.

The gallery event was tomorrow night. So they had a little time to get rid of jet lag and get ready. They talked about the best way to go about finding the thing that looked like Dean and they figured to start with the source. They would sneak into the art thingy and talk to this girl named Bobbie Singer and see what she knows. Simple enough. The only thing left to do was... well, sight see!

"Dude, let's go see Buckingham Palace." Sam said excitedly.

"Why?" Dean asked confused.

"Why not? It's a major tourist sight."

"It's just a building, Sammy. Nothing special about it." Dean slapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, what about Big Ben?"

"It's stupid. What's with you? We have a job to do."

"Yeah, okay. Never mind." Sam muttered.

They were dropped off and dumped their stuff into the hotel room that cost way more than it was worth. Dean went to go get supplies, since he couldn't bring any guns with him on the plane, and Sam started to research the area to see if there were any weird deaths that could be connected to Dean's look-a-like.

"Well it doesn't look like your twin is connected to any deaths around here." Sam stated a couple hours later.

"Dude! I told you to stop calling it that. It's NOT my twin. Just some fucked up creature who thinks it can borrow my face and has another thing coming." Dean grunted angrily.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, well your twin could be anybody. So until we figure out what or who it is, you're not allowed to kill it."

Dean just grumbled under his breath and went back to sharpening the blades he had picked up.

Sam tried looking up some information on the Bobbie chick but couldn't find anything outside of her pieces in the art gallery and a small studio downtown that she apparently owned. For some reason though he could not stop smiling. He was in the best mood and felt like he could fly if he wanted to. He checked the clock, 4:07, and decided he was going to go do what he wanted since stepping off the plane. Getting up and grabbing his jacket, he headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean called after him.

"I'm gonna take a walk. I don't have anything left to do until tomorrow."

"Find me some pie would you?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." Sam laughed.

"I'm serious! Don't forget." Dean glared.

Sam opened to door and walked out before Dean could ask for a double cheeseburger and fries while he was at it. Taking a deep breath he left the hotel and started walking to find a trolley. He smiled again, he was going to see Buckingham Palace.

Just as he sat down on the trolley, a gust of energy left him. Like he had been deflated. He was still happy, but the intense joy he had felt before was gone. When he finally saw Buckingham Palace it was everything he had imagined. However, Dean was right. It was just a building right now. The magic wasn't there.

Sam mentally slapped himself. What was he talking about? 'The magic wasn't there?' That sounded so stupid. Who thinks like that? 'Get ahold of yourself.' He thought.

By the time he walked back into the hotel, Dean was passed out and Sam was glad, mostly because he had forgotten the pie, but also because he did not want to talk right now. He got dressed for bed and laid down. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

* * *

***Authors note: This is before Bobby lost his legs and they went to Scotland to get Crowley's bones. So the boys have never left the country.***


	4. Chapter 4

Bobbie was lying in bed and staring at the ring on her hand even though she should have been getting up and ready for her day. 'It's so shiny' she thought.

She could hear Deav walk around in the living room making phone calls. He had been up for hours. Which was usually the case, he was always up before dawn. 'Stupid morning people.'

It was their first day of officially being engaged. It was weird for her. She felt... happy? Was that the right word? She didn't exactly feel happy, but what else could it be? She felt disconnected to the whole thing, like it wasn't really happening to her. How should she be feeling? Was she getting cold feet already? Was she over thinking everything? Should she talk to Deavon about it?

She sat up straight in bed.

What if he didn't know what she was talking about? Or worse. What if it started making him rethink everything? Or what if-

'Oh my god.' She was losing it. She knew that. But she still felt disconnected. She could not stop the swirl of mundane questions going through her head. She needed to talk to Deavon. She jumped out of bed.

"OUGF"

Then fell right on her face because she did not throw off the blanket first. It made a rather loud noise. She laid there with her legs tangled in sheets and realized she was being crazy. Just like that she was once again connected to her brain.

She was not going to let herself have a mental breakdown the morning after she got engaged. She untangled herself and walked over to the closet, grabbed clothes, and put them on the bed. Then grabbed her hairbrush.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up and saw Deavon standing in the doorway with a confused expression on his face and his phone against his shoulder.

"Yeah, why?" She asked.

"You screamed." He looked around the room and then back at her.

"Um... I fell." She gave an apologetic face and started on her hair again; avoiding eye contact.

Deav laughed. "Uh, yes sir, I'm still here." He went back to his phone call still smiling and walked down the hall. "Everything is set up..."

"I'm such an idiot" She mumbled when he was out of earshot.

She finished getting ready and walked to the kitchen. Deavon hung up his phone just as she entered.

"Get all your calls done?" She asked as she walked past him to the coffee pot.

"I did, that was my last one." He said as his hand wrapped around her wrist as she walked by. "And where do you think you're going?" He pulled her back to him and against his chest.

She chuckled and wrapped the arm not being held by him around his waist.

"Good morning" he said in a husky voice. Then he bent down and kissed her.

"Morning" she breathily replied. He looked very sexy in the morning, unshaven, green eyes bright and piercing.

"How is my future wife?" He asked, grinning ear to ear. He let go of her wrist, grabbed her butt, lifted her up, and sat her on the counter. He stood in between her open legs and put his hands on her thighs. They were eye to eye now. "Careful, don't fall."

"Shut up, you prick." She laughed. She leaned forward and kissed him again, lightly brushing her lips against his. Deavon's hands tightened on her legs and moved up to her hips. He deepened the kiss and pulled her forward so their chests were touching. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she arched her back so they were as close as they could get. He ran his hands up her body and grabbed her breasts through her shirt. She moaned into his mouth and bit his lower lip.

He growled and put his lips against her neck, making her arch her head back and bite her own lip. The bottom of her shirt was in his hands, he was moving it up to take it off of her.

And his phone started ringing.

"Not now!" He groaned, letting go of her shirt and reaching for the phone in his pocket. He looked at the caller ID, pushed ignore, and put it back.

"Who was it?" She asked, mentally preparing to hate whoever had interrupted them.

"It's Larry. He just wants to make sure everything is set for when I leave next week." Deavon answered, going back to kissing her neck.

"Why?" She leaned her body back out of his reach and looked at him. "Larry doesn't have to look after me while you're gone. I don't understand why you make him babysit me. It's ridiculous, I'm not a child."

"I know that, darling. I just want to make sure you're safe. We talk about this every time I leave. Why is it so bad that I have him check up on you?" He sounded almost annoyed.

"Checking up on me would be one thing, but you have him babysit me. I am tired of it Deav! Especially since you're going to be gone for so long this time!"

"I don't have him babysit you." He argued. "And it's even more of a reason to have him look after you since I'm going to be gone so long."

"You make him sleep here, Deavon." She crossed her arms and stared at him. "One time you had him take off work for a week so he could drive me around every day. I refuse to have Larry stay on my couch for four months!

"It won't be like that this-"

"I love Larry, I do." She interrupted him. "But I need my space. There is no point in telling him to watch me because I won't let him in."

"Baby, listen. This is important-"

"No." She gave him a stern look.

He stared at her for a minute.

"Fine. Okay, you win. I'll tell him he's off the hook." He grumbled.

She smiled and kissed him before hopping off the counter.

"Perfect! Now I have to go or I'll be late." Grabbing her purse, she headed to the door.

"Love you." He called after her. He dialed his phone and put it to his ear. "Hey Larry, change of plans..."

She closed the door and blocked out the rest of his sentence. She had to get to the dress shop before 10. The dress she was wearing for the art gallery tonight was done and they needed her to try it on to make sure it fit.

She opened the door to the front of the apartment building and walked down the stairs. She thought about getting a taxi but the shop was only 4 blocks away and she needed the exercise and fresh air. 'Fresh air?' She thought. 'In London? That's a laugh.'

She loved living here, but it was not perfect. She missed living in the states sometimes. She had been living in London for the last two years and it was the longest she had ever been in one place for so long. Thinking about it made her uncomfortable. But then she remembered the kind of life she had back then and gave up that kind of thinking.

She had a life here, a handsome fiancé, her own business with a job she loved, friends... well 'Friends' was a big term. She was never good at making friends. But she had Deavon, and that is all that mattered.

'Well doesn't that sound kind of depressing?' She thought. She mentally shook her head to clear it and thought of tonight. She was so excited! Her photographs were going to be in an art gallery. Selling for enormous prices! It was a dream come true.

Her phone started ringing. "Hello?" She answered.

" _Okay, I talked to Larry. He's not staying the night here_." Deavon replied.

"What about driving me everywhere? Or spending the day at my shop? Or calling me every hour when he's not around me?"

" _Baby please. I need to make sure you're okay. London isn't the safest place."_

"Deavon I said no. When it was just a couple days or a week I could put up with it. You are going to be gone for 4 months. I can take care of myself, trust me. I survived in this city without out you and Larry before. I can do it again."

" _I met you the first night you came here and I've been with you ever since."_ He argued.

"You know what I mean." She sighed. "I will see Larry one day a week and if he calls me more than twice in a day I'll block his number. I personally don't even understand why he does this for you. It would be stalker like if he wasn't being forced to do it."

" _It's just hard for me. I don't get to talk to you at all while I am away and he is the only person I trust enough to make sure you're safe."_

"I understand that, which is why I've put up with it for this long. But I am putting my foot down now. You're going to have to get over it. I can survive by myself." She stated all this very slowly and strongly so no arguments could be made. "Okay listen I just got to the shop. I'll call you when I'm done with all my errands. Love you." She hung up before waiting for a reply.

She took a deep breath and opened the door to the small shop. There were a couple dresses in the window but all in all the place wasn't very big. ' _Susan's'_ was known for making custom dresses, not selling the same dress over and over. The lady behind the counter, 'Her name is Lily?', smiled when Bobbie walked in and greeted her.

"You're right on time!" Lily beamed. "Your dress is finished and, if I might add, gorgeous."

"Great! I am so excited." Bobbie beamed back as she walked up to the counter.

"You can go right on to the back, Susan just finished getting everything ready."

"Thank you..." She was now close enough to see Lily's name tag, "Rose."

'Well, I was close. It was a flower.' Bobbie thought.

She walked to the left of the counter, to the back of the store, and through some fancy doors. The room was mostly empty except for a giant mirror in the center and two dressing rooms on both walls. A women, Susan, was standing in the middle holding a dress and brushing imaginary dust off of it. She looked up and smiled.

"Bonsoir! Ow are you zis morning, mademoiselle? I ave finished everything you ave required on zee dress, you will adore it." The lady started off.

"Bonjour, Susan." Bobbie smiled. She knew Susan wasn't French, she had a horrible accent, but never said anything. It was a part of the charm. Also, she knew French, and it was painfully obvious Susan did not. Bonsoir meant 'good evening.' It was 10 am.

"The dress looks amazing, Susan!" She said as she walked over to the dress in question.

"It will look fabulous on you, mademoiselle." Susan stated. "Now try it on!"

Susan handed the dress to her and traded it for her purse. Bobbie went into the dressing room on the right and changed. She walked out and over to the giant mirror to look at herself. Susan did not say anything, which was strange, normally she never let a silent moment pass.

Bobbie stared at herself in the mirror. She was breathless. It was a formal dress, so it went all the way to the floor. It was sleeveless and backless, and the fabric started again a few inches above her ass. Thin straps, 4 or 5 on each side of her hips, crisscrossed and went over her shoulders to hold up the dress on the front. It was all silver and shiny, but when she moved in the light she could see purple.

"Does everything fit well?" Susan asked as she moved around and measured some things on the dress.

"It fits wonderfully, thank you. I love it."

"Well zen take it off and I will get it packaged for you."

Bobbie smiled and walked back over to the dressing room. What kind of French name was Susan anyway? She laughed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam was dressed and ready. Dean was not.

"Dude, you look fine." Sam told Dean.

"I'm dressed up in a monkey suit, Sam. I look like a fucking monkey." Dean argued. He was having trouble tying his tie.

Sam just sat there and laughed at him. One would think Dean had gotten use to wearing suits after all this time, one would be wrong.

They were both wearing black tuxedoes and looked very formal. Sam was holding onto the tickets to get them inside the building. Which Dean had acquired but refused to say how he had actually got them. "Part of the job, Sammy" was all he had said about it.

Sam was sitting at a table in the hotel and searching up some final things on his laptop. He was weirdly nervous about tonight, like he had to prove something.

"Hurry up Dean." Sam said looking at his watch. "We're going to be late."

"We'll be fine, calm down. You're not even done doing your nerd thing." Dean said, laughing at his own joke.

Sam just rolled his eyes. "I'm looking up some facts about the art we'll see tonight so I know what I'm talking about if someone asks me a question."

"Yep. Nerd stuff." Dean confirmed, and made one last adjustment to his tie. "Okay, perfect. Let's get out of here."

They took a taxi to the gala and decided to get out a block away since everyone else was pulling up in limos. They walked up to the front double French doors of a huge building that, in Sam's opinion, was over the top. There were at least 3 security guards watching the doors and a door guy who was wearing a tux and holding a clip board. Sam and Dean walked up and handed him their invitations.

The skinny man raised his eyebrows and looked behind them at the street. No doubt looking for their non-existent limo.

"Names?" He asked in a condescending tone.

"What?" Sam asked. "You have our invites, why do you need our-"

"Mr. Taylor and Miller." Dean interrupted.

"Right." The man said checking them off his list. "It's for security measures Mr. Miller, you'll have to accept my apology." He said to Sam. He directed them into the building and went back to his post. He looked up and down the street one more time, but just shook his head.

"Up tight bitch." Dean said under his breath.

They walked into the building and entered a short hallway, entirely painted in white, and at the end was a metal detector with another guard.

"Shit." Dean muttered.

"You have the knife." Sam groaned.

"Hold on, I got this."

They walked up to the guard and smiled.

"Hello, gentleman. Will you please empty your pockets of any metal, including your keys, coins, and wallet?" He pointed at two, rather fancy, looking baskets and waited for them to comply.

Sam put his wallet and the hotel key in the basket and stood in front of Dean.

"You guys are taking this security thing pretty seriously, huh?" Sam nervously laughed.

"It's a serious matter." He simply said.

Dean put his wallet and hotel key in the basket and cleared his throat, so Sam moved and walked through the detector, Dean behind him.

The alarm went off.

"Please step aside, sir." The guard had a metal detector wand in his hand. "Do you have anything on your person?"

"No, I put everything in the basket." Dean said innocently.

"Spread your arms and legs apart please."

The guard waved the wand over his arms, legs, and body. It started beeping, right over his groin.

"What do you have in your pants, sir?"

"Oh... right. I have a... piercing." Dean acted very embarrassed.

"Right. Well then... um, have a nice night gentleman." The guard said, rather uncomfortable, and went back to the baskets to hand back their things.

"You too." Sam said, and grabbed his stuff. He looked at Dean raised his eyebrows. Dean just smiled.

They walked through another pair of double doors and into what Sam assumed was the main event. It was a ginormous room, all white, with pictures and painting all over the walls. There were sculptures all throughout the building, scattered around the room. On the far wall was a bar with at least 3 bartenders and waiters walking around with platters in their hands. It was all really... fancy. That's the only word Sam could think of.

"Okay, so we have to look for the chick with the photo of my eyes. Split up." Dean whispered.

Dean headed off to the left and toward a pretty waitress carrying food. Sam rolled his eyes. He figured he would just ask someone about her. He saw a short man with a clip board and walked over to him.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked.

The man turned toward Sam, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I am looking for the artist of a specific photograph."

"All transactions need to go through the curator, Lady Catherine, and not the artist themselves." The man stated.

"Oh. Um, no. I was wanting to talk to her to find out her um... inspiration." Sam stuttered. He mentally crossed his fingers.

"Quite so. What is the name of the photo?" The man asked looking at his clipboard.

" _Windows into the Soul_." Sam replied, relieved.

"Ah, yes. That would be Miss Singer. She is..." The man looked around the room. "Right over there. Next to the naked mole rat sculpture." He then turned around and went back to what he had been doing before.

"Thanks..." Sam muttered.

Sam looked around and saw the sculpture, but there were many women around it. He would ask when he got over there, which took almost 2 minutes since the room was so big.

There was a woman standing close to him with another clipboard so he would ask about Miss Singer again. She was about 5 feet from the weird rat thing and wearing a grey dress. He was uncomfortably nervous again. Anyone of these women could be the girl he was looking for and he had no idea if she was dangerous or not.

"Excuse me?" Sam asked the lady with a grey dress.

She turned toward him and her dress changed color, purple?, then back to grey.

"Yes?" She asked, a confused look on her face.

"Could you help me? I'm looking for Miss Singer." and to avoid the conversation about buying things, he added. "I'm a friend of hers."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


End file.
